


Brothers.

by LadyKenz347



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts, Ink Magic, Other, Quidditch, Sibling Rivalry, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKenz347/pseuds/LadyKenz347
Summary: Albus and Scorpius discover a way to make their next school year one to remember, but things quickly get away from them.





	Brothers.

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DBQ2019Round3](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2019Round3) collection. 



> Thank you to my anon Alpha and Beta for all your love!

Scorpius’ feet dangled over the side of the footboard of Albus’s bed as his face remained buried in the spine of some book he’d brought from the manor library. The summer holiday was in its final weeks and neither of them could be more thankful. 

 

Scorpius’ eyes floated over a passage and the valley between his pale brows crinkled. “There’s a spell in this old book we ought to try.” 

 

Albus turned from the parchment on his desk and hitched an elbow on the back of his chair. “What kind of spell?”

 

Gliding his finger over the worn page, Scorpius read aloud: 

 

_ Wish fulfillment ink can be be brewed using almost identical ingredients as Felix Felicis. The wisher must use the ink and sign their name to it at midnight on a full moon.  _

 

_ It is suggested that the wisher is, or consults, with a master pot— _

 

The blond’s mouth grew tired and he slammed the book shut, tossing it on the bed and rising to his feet. “Blah, blah, blah— it goes on, but mostly it’s going to make me Captain of the Dueling Club team this year.” 

 

Albus snorted. “Fucking doubtful, mate.”

 

Scorpius jumped from his spot near the window. “We’ll see about that. Now, we need shit for the ink.” Thumbing through the pages of the appendix, he found the instructions and mumbled them to himself. “Ashwinder egg… thyme… murtlap **.”**

 

“Mate, Felix Felicis isn’t exactly an easy potion to pull off. Even if we get all these by the next full moon, we aren’t exactly Sluggy, now are we?”

 

“I’m  _ brilliant _ at potions, lest you forget.” Scorpius puffed his chest up like a proud peacock and Albus nearly combusted with laughter.

 

“Sluggy said he’d never seen anything like you in all his years as head of Slytherin house—” 

 

Scorpius snorted, giving his friend a hard shove. “That was a compliment!”

 

“You think he was complimenting you on your toxic sludge?” 

 

“Just shut it! We’ve got only a few days to get all this shit and if you play nice, I’ll let you write on my parchment that you want Morgan to sit on your lap by the year’s end.” Scorpius waggled his pale brows at his friend. 

 

“You disgust me.”

 

Scorpius shrugged, unaffected. “I know.” 

 

“Just tell me what to bloody get.”

 

Albus’ face pinched up in the most putrid of grimaces. “Are you sure? The color looks… yeah. It looks off. It’s more of a greenish-swampy-brown. The recipe says indigo… are you sure you put the squill bulb in at the right time?”

 

Scorpius stared at the miniscule amount of liquid swirling in the bottom of the vial. “It’s fucking purple! Are you blind?” 

 

Whatever color it was, it wasn’t enough ink. When they’d tossed the murtlap tentacle in, it had absorbed all the liquid and they’d been reduced to ringing out the slimy appendage into a vial — leaving barely anything to write with. 

 

“Can we make more?” Albus asked while swirling the vial between his fingers. 

 

Snorting, Scorpius grabbed the ink from his friend. “Not unless you have a way of sneaking in my father's potions lab for more supplies. He’s pissed, ordered all the portraits to watch the door. We’ll just have to make do with what we have.” 

 

With careful hands, Albus poured the ink into the pot. “So, where do we start?”

 

“Give it here,” Scorpius motioned for the parchment and grabbed the magpie quill. “Scorpius is Dueling Club Captain.”

 

“How very eloquent.”

 

Scorpius eyes narrowed into slits as his lip curled unpleasantly. “There isn’t enough ink for paragraphs, you knob. Short and sweet— or not at all. Your turn.” He handed the quill over and Albus hovered the nib over the iridescent parchment until Scorpius became so impatient that he snapped. “Mate! It’s midnight in four minutes; we have to sign it by then.  _ Let’s go. _ ”

 

“You pick another,” Albus said, his eyes falling to his hands. “I don’t have anything I want.”

 

“Bullshite— think of something. But, _ oh! _ Remember when Flitwick outed me last year? Said I’d never be as good as my dad at Charms? Well this will show him—” The sound of the quill scratching against the parchment was the only sound in the room as Scorpius made his second “wish”.

 

Scorpius lifted the ink pot; his mouth puckering as he inspected the little liquid left pooling in the corner. “Just enough for one more and we’re running out of time. Go on—” he urged, setting the inkpot by the parchment. 

 

Albus chewed on the inside of his cheek, soaking the tip of the quill and then once again pausing just a breath over the parchment. His eyes flickered up to meet Scorpius and his jaw set as he scratched out the last wish. 

 

_ Albus beats James.  _

 

The clock struck midnight and they hurried to scrawl their names on the bottom. The parchment brightened with a moony-glow but nothing else much happened. They shrugged, letting it curl up before shoving it in Albus’ trunk. 

* * *

 

The trip back to Hogwarts was about the same as it had been for the past four years, in some ways even better than normal. James only set two hexes on their car, rather than the normal ten.

 

At the welcome feast, Headmistress McGonagall gave a perfunctory speech after the sorting had completed, warning new students of the perils of the castle as well as introducing this years heads. The hall remained silent for the duration of the commencement, until McGonagall touched on the subject that Albus knew his brother was most desperate to hear. 

 

“This year’s Quidditch tryouts will take place the first and second week of September. Please see your team captains for more details. Which leads me to my next announcement: team captains. The Hufflepuff Captain is Alice Windsor.” 

 

A quiet but proud applause swept through the Great Hall, never ceasing as McGonagall continued with the Ravenclaw and Slytherin captains. It wasn’t until the Gryffindor captain was named that the Gryffindor table erupted with thunderous hoots and hollers. 

 

Albus and Scorpius, along with the rest of the Slytherin table, watched with small scowls as the entire Gryffindor table rallied and cheered on their champion: James Potter. 

* * *

 

Scorpius’ neck was irregularly bent as he stared up at ceiling during Charms class. Gods, if this wasn’t the most boring fucking class. 

 

An exaggerated snoring sound vibrated from the back of his throat, and the two Hufflepuff girls behind him huddled in laughter as he straightened his spine and slipped them a wink. 

 

Flitwick’s shaky little voice was for once firm as he stood at the podium at the head of the class. “Mister Malfoy! Perhaps you’d be willing to show us the charm first? Since you seem to be so advanced that simple lectures are no longer necessary.”

 

“Love to, Professor.” Scorpius’ lips pulled up into a smirk and he strutted to the front of the classroom, robes billowing behind him. He could feel the knot of nerves tangling in his belly but he ignored them to point his wand at the chest sitting between the rows of desks. With a gulp, he flourished his wand through the air. “ _ Cistem aperio”.  _

 

The trunk at the end of his wand flew open and everyone’s eyes (including Scorpius’) blew wide in disbelief. 

 

“Oh.” Flitwick’s brows fell low over his glasses and Scorpius straightened his robes before strutting back to his seat next to Albus. 

 

“How in the bloody hell did you pull  _ that  _ off?” Albus hissed as Scorpius took his seat. 

 

“Right then—” Flitwick cleared his throat and his small hands clapped together before procuring his wand and swirling it through the air. A small trunk appeared at every station.“As  _ Mister Malfoy _ —” his voice drenched in incredulity, “—demonstrated. ”

 

Every student stood back from their desk, wands at the ready. In a succession of almost bomb-like explosions, each trunk blasted open; leather and parchment and brass fittings flew through every corner of the room as students ducked for cover. 

 

Only when the rubble settled did Flitwick finally speak. “I never thought I’d see the day that Scorpius Malfoy surpassed any student in my class.” His eyes were round as he stared at his cowering students and destroyed classroom. 

* * *

 

Albus had attended tryouts for the first time with great encouragement from his father. 

 

He’d made it clear he had no intention of actually making the team, but at least he could write home and say he gave it an honest effort. But tryouts hadn’t been quite as awful as he thought they’d be and he — almost — let himself hope. 

 

The announcements board at the entrance of the Great Hall was stuffed with students, eagerly awaiting the news of the Quidditch tryouts.

 

Neither Slytherin moved from their spot, even after the last of the group had filed away, some triumphant and others with head hung low. 

 

As lunch ended, the two boys slung their bags over their shoulders and made their way to the main doors. “I know I didn’t make it— but I guess I’m curious to see how I did.” Albus said with a gulp. 

 

Scorpius nodded with a tight smile. 

 

But then, his name was there.  _ Albus Potter - Beater. _

 

“Fucking hell, mate!  _ Beater? _ Your dad is going—”

 

“Dad is going to be disappointed.” James’ lazy drawl huffed from behind them. “Just like he always is, Albie.”

 

Albus tensed as he glared over his shoulder. “Don’t call me that.”

 

“Oh, you little poofs. So sensitive,” James said with a roll of his eyes. “Personally, I’m proud of you, little brother.” His fingers tousled Albus’ hair. “I just know you— I know you’ll fuck this up like you do everything. And dad will get that same pathetic look in his eyes he always does when he talks about you.” 

 

Whipping around, Albus’ eyes flared as he stared up at his perfect brother, the one who could do no wrong. 

 

Albus stood his ground as long as he could, before a few blinks brought reality crashing back down onto him and he shrank away. James’ lips curled into a nasty sneer as he stared down his nose at his little brother. “That’s what I thought. See you on the pitch, Albie.” 

 

James strutted off, his shoulder slamming into Albus’. 

 

“I  _ hate _ your brother,” Scorpius said, staring at the golden Gryffindor’s back. 

 

Albus adjusted his bag on his shoulder with a cold glare in the same direction. “Yeah, me too.”

 

The Captain of the Dueling Club was a seventh year, Chad Baker. He’d held the title for exactly four years and he set an uncommon precedence for being a complete fucking wanker, strutting about like someone had strategically placed a broomhandle up his arse. 

 

Scorpius wasn’t all that bad really, (his wand work could use a little help, if he was honest) he just wasn’t very good, either. 

 

As Scorpius took his place on the dueling lane, he felt his lungs quiver in anticipation. Baker might be a fucking prat— but he was a fair dueler. Better than fair.

 

Baker stepped forward, a cocky swagger to his hip as he cast a quiet spell with the flick of his wrist. 

 

Scorpius’ hand shot up uncommonly fast, casting a shield charm that earned hooting cheers from his housemates. His opponent moved forward effortlessly and the blond felt his loafers slide as Baker’s jet of magic beat against his shield. 

 

Scorpius stepped out from behind his shield, feeling an overwhelming surge of magic thrum through his limbs as he cast a simple  _ Stupefy. _ The spell shot directly into Baker’s chest, knocking him back into a stone pillar and leaving him in a slump at its feet. 

 

A collective gasp filled the room as the professors rushed to Baker’s side. Scorpius locked his gaze there for the simple reason that every other set of eyes was set him. He’d crushed the breath from their captain — well, their  _ old _ captain. Scorpius had just defeated him. 

 

Scorpius was captain now.

* * *

 

Scorpius gave a wild yelp as he was yanked into an alcove outside of the Great Hall.

 

“Please tell me you aren’t so dense that you don’t understand what’s happening here?” Albus’s eyes were dark and angry— a decidedly strange look, Scorpius thought. “Your stupid fucking spell is coming true.” 

 

The words Al was saying seemed to make enough sense but still, it took a moment for them to sink in. 

 

“Your wishes, you prat! The ones written in your bollocksed ink? What’d you wish for? To be the best at charms— yeah, the classroom exploded. Captain of the Dueling Club? Bully for you mate, you just knocked out Baker. They’re sending him to Saint Mungo’s for monitoring!” 

 

Scorpius’ throat ran dry as he realized what his friend was saying; the ink had worked. Well, kind of. It worked in a clumsy, horrible sort of way. There’d only been enough ink for two— or wait, Albus did add something near the end, didn’t he?

 

Tearing open the flap of his bag, Scorpius dug through the scrolls and textbooks and found the small, shimmering parchment. 

 

There were three wishes. 

 

The first two were now set in a deep, blood red but the third still sat in its flat swampy-green. 

 

_ Albus beats James. _

 

“The fuck did you mean by this?” Scorpius’ said with a narrowed glare. 

 

Albus had begun to nervously pace along the dimly lit alcove, rubbing his hands over his face. “It doesn’t matter what I  _ meant _ . That fucking ink is going to make it happen no matter what.” 

 

“Well, so what? James Potter can stand to lose once in awhile, yeah?” Scorpius snorted, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll be happy to see Slytherin wipe the pitch with Gryffindor blood tomorrow.”

 

Albus grabbed a fistful of his friends robes, yanking him a step closer. “That’s the problem you fucking twit. It might very well be blood. I wanted to beat him not kill him. He’s my brother!”

 

Realisation made a slow crawl over Scorpius’ face. “ _ Fucking hell. _ ”

* * *

 

Albus was nearly vibrating in the seat next to him. “Where’s the book?” His voice a low growl.

 

“Mate. I wrote home for it. That’s all I can do.”

 

“Yeah, you could  _ also _ not get to me sign magical contracts that kill my brother. You  _ could _ do that too. Just saying.” 

 

Scorpius answered by biting into his muffin with a severe roll of his eyes. 

 

They grew more impatient with each bird that soared past him and Albus nearly growled at Scorpius when it had been almost five minutes. 

 

Just then the Malfoy owl unceremoniously dropped a brown covered package on his eggs; splattering them up into his face without a glance back. “ _ I hate that owl _ .” 

 

Scorpius tore through the packaging and flipped through the fragile pages until he found the recipe for Wish Fulfillment Ink. He murmured the words on the page aloud, mostly to himself, before landing on the end of the page. 

 

“It doesn’t say shit about destroying the parchment.”

 

“The fuck are we gonna do, Malfoy? The game starts in a few hours!”

 

Scorp let out a bereaved sigh. “I hate to say it, but you’ll have to throw the game.” 

 

Albus’ shoulders sank and Scorp couldn’t help but feel bad for his friend. He’d spent his entire life living up to his brother’s  _ and _ father’s legacies and when he finally had the chance to garner some well-earned fame, he had to give it up.

* * *

 

The stands of the Quidditch pitch were  _ too _ full. Everybody pressed uncomfortably close to another and Scorpius found himself scowling at his classmates, throwing wayward elbows just to gain an inch of space.

 

Rain had started a slow drizzle from above as the game wore on at glacial pace. The snitch had been briefly been spotted in the first twenty minutes of the game, but since had hidden itself in the low lying clouds. Around the posts, there was a steady accumulation of points as the Chaser’s tossed the quaffle through the ring and raced to the other end to repeat. 

 

The hours dragged on.

 

Scorpius was perhaps the most interested in the game. He watched with a tight jaw as Albus narrowly escaped every bludger he came in contact with. Albus was being careful. 

 

_ Painfully careful.  _

 

There were several times that the Slytherin section audibly groaned as Albus lightly tapped a bludger with the tip of his bat, rather than nailing it and sending it soaring towards the opposing players.

 

The drizzle soon turned into a downpour and the even the players were grumbling as the Seekers searched the sky for a glimpse of the golden snitch. 

 

Haverty, the Slytherin Captain, and James hovered near the middle of the pitch, seemingly speaking to each other. With no sight of the snitch, the only way to end this torture would be for the two captains to be in agreement to end the game. It was rare. 

 

A flash of lightning filled the sky and the snitch passed through the center of the pitch. Both captains ceased their discussion to follow after it. They fought by inches, one gaining and then the other, until both their hands were outstretched towards a barely visible speck in the clouded sky. 

 

Scorpius’ gaze floated up to Albus who was watching with bated breath as his brother fought. 

 

A bludger barreled toward Albus, who was none the wiser as Scorpius’ eyes flickered between the wayward ball and his friend. “POTTER! LOOK OUT!” Scorpius shouted, lurching to his feet. 

 

Albus turned, catching the sight of the bludger from the corner of his eye. With a quick, almost catlike, movement, he backhanded the bludger with his bat. The resounding  _ whomp _ echoed through the pitch as the ball spiraled away from him and towards the pair of Seekers still fighting for ground. 

 

A collective gasp sounded from the crowd.

 

James’ long fingers closed around the snitch, just as the bludger crashed into the tail of Haverty’s broom, sending him crashing the few feet to the grass below. 

 

“GRYFFINDOR WINS!” 

 

As the rest of the Slytherin section grumbled, Scorpius and Albus locked eyes in a moment of shared victory. 

 

Albus didn’t beat James. 

 

Scorpius was the first one on the pitch as he rushed to his friends side. 

 

“You okay, mate? There’ll be other matches,” he reassured him. 

 

“Yeah.” Albus smirked at his friend. 

 

“Albie!” James mocking voice interrupted and the pair of Slytherin’s stiffened. “Tough loss.”

 

“Yeah, thanks.” Albus grumbled. 

 

The crook of James elbow wrapped around his little brothers neck as he tugged him into a headlock and he dug his knuckles into his scalp. “Don’t get down on yourself, baby brother. First game jitters and all that.”

 

Albus ripped himself from James’ grasp with a snarl and he shoved him roughly. “Piss off, I was taking it easy on you.” 

 

The rest of the Gryffindor team had gathered around their captain by now, and the lot of them snickered into their hands as Albus stared up at his brother. 

 

“Sure you did.” James winked. “Maybe you ought to return to the library with your little ass-buddy back there.”

 

“Piss off, James!” Scorpius sneered as he watched a violent tension spread over Albus’ shoulders. 

 

“ _ Oh hoh hoh _ ! Your boyfriend is getting his knickers in a twist, Albie. Haven’t stuck your finger up his bum yet today?”

 

The sharp edge of James jaw was clipped by Albus bare knuckles and the elder Potter fell in a heap to the ground. The surrounding teammates took a shocked step back and Albus wasted no time in straddling his brother. A sickening crunch filled the air as his fist met James face over and over and  _ over _ again. 

 

“ _ Fucking hell _ —” Scorpius eyes blew wide. He rushed to his friend’s side, trying to drag him from his brother. “Albus—” He was cut off by a stray elbow and he toppled backward. Sobs of hatred escaped Albus’ lips as he beat his fists into his brother. 

 

McGonagall was on the pitch suddenly, her wand raised and Albus froze mid-punch, a nasty snarl still curled over his normally pleasant features. 

 

“What on earth is going on here?” She gasped, flicking her wand again until Albus was several feet away, crouched on his knees with his hands pinned behind his back. 

 

Scorpius scrambled to his feet as Professor Flitwick knelt at James’ side, inspecting his very obvious injuries. “Minerva, we’ve got to him to Saint Mungo’s— his pupils are blown and his breath… the sooner the better.” 

 

“Take him,” she nodded and stepped in full authority into the quiet chaos. “Does someone want to tell me  _ exactly _ what transpired here?” The thin arch of her brow flickered at Albus, splattered in his brothers blood and panting. 

 

One of the Gryffindor players stepped forward, his shaking finger pointing at the bound Slytherin. “Albus beat James.” 

 

Scorpius eyes flickered closed in defeat. “ _ Fuck.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
